She’d been checking out his page–purely to reassure herself that he’d gotten exponentially less attractive over time while she has become lovelier with each setting of the sun–then stuck her phone back in her pocket. When she got an email saying he’d accepted her friend request, she was mortified.

Quickly, she unfriended and blocked him, so her butt wouldn’t act on its worst impulses. But not before he’d taken the opportunity to post something pointed about how weird it was when exes friend and unfriend you in the space of two minutes. “He probably thinks, ‘I knew it all along, she still wants me!'” she moaned.

Now that our smartphones are ever more capable, that means so are our asses! And they act like they’re drunk all the time! One cheek can not only call people in Brazil (a phenom my 11-year-old inadvertently called a “booty call,” and then nearly died from the grossness when I explained what that means) but it can friend, un-friend, tweet, fill out Survey Monkey forms and join far right Open Carry gun activist groups, before the other cheek even notices!

The other day, I butt-activated Siri in the subway and then got really annoyed at the idiot who kept trying to talk to Siri when she kept saying there was no wireless. Until I realized the idiot was me. I. Or rather, my ass, which, as my friend Sarah says about her own, should get its own Facebook account.

Let’s just hope future world leaders don’t have apps on their phones that let them activate their nuclear arsenals or we’ll be in a world of shit.